


What's Today?

by ForgottenChesire



Series: Kinktober 2018 [30]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Floor Sex, John Watson wearing panties, John Watson wearing pantyhose, Kinktober 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 03:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: Sherlock’s laugh is like a drug to John. He can’t get enough of it. But conscious thought leaves him as Sherlock gives in to his demand. Hips thrusting into him. The thwack of skin against skin and John’s moans filling the air. With his legs on Sherlock’s shoulders, his hands have nowhere to go but to his side scratching on the floor. He’s probably chanting Sherlock’s name over and over again as the detective pounds away with such force that they are slowly inching away from the chair. He’ll have rug burn on his back in the morning. It’s glorious. One of his hands reaches up, grasping for those curls. He needs to touch. Needs to. They’re soft to the touch.





	What's Today?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 30 Swallowing/Pantyhouse

The door to their flat is barely closed before John pushes Sherlock into a chair and drops to his knees. Roughly he unzips the grey slack and tugging on them and the plain white pants underneath until Sherlock's prick is free. Then with his hands on pale thighs, he dips his head down, swallowing Sherlock down to the base. Sherlock’s hands land on his head threading through his hair as he sucks, as he dips his head down. Treating the dick in his mouth like a perfectly ripe banana, minus the biting down. Though he does let his teeth scrape against the skin with the buffer of his lips. The noises that he draws from Sherlock is music to his ears. Sounds that only he gets to hear, that only he gets to make Sherlock make.

 

“John.”

 

He hums a few notes to signify that he hears his lover. Loving the low groan his lover, his _fiancé_ , lets out. The word and the cool metal on his finger sends shivers down his spine. Pleasant shivers. The hands on his hair tug. Impatient, demanding and shaking. Sherlock is about to come. Determined John sucks hard, one hand leaving Sherlock’s thigh to gently rub his lover’s ballsack. The taste of come is not always pleasant, the warmth can be shocking and the texture off-putting but he swallows it down. Sucks and sucks until there is nothing left and then sucks a little bit more just in case. Part of him loves the feel of a prick in his mouth, a comforting weight. It's almost a shame to pull back.

 

“I had wanted to come inside you,” Sherlock rumbles, lips almost in a pout when John pulls off. But long-fingered hands rub his cheeks anyway. Loving. Gentle. Pulling him up for a kiss. John smiles, leaning into the petting.

 

“You still can. I want you inside me. Pounding into me until I scream. Rip these pantyhose I have one and just fuck me, yeah?”

 

Sherlock shudders before pulling him in for a deep kiss. It’s everything that John wants. That he needs.

 

“Want or need, dear doctor?”

 

It’s whispered into his ear. Those fingers that play violin so loudly, so perfectly, are cupping his face. John crawls onto Sherlock’s lap, the high heels he was wearing dropping to the floor and the teddy hiking up. Knees planted firmly on either side of the lap he is straddling John pulls Sherlock in for another kiss.

 

“What do you think?”

 

John is still rock hard and leaking as he rolls his hips.

 

“Only one flaw in your plan.”

 

John tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly. Wondering just what his lover plans on saying.

 

“You are wearing panties under these. Such a pretty pair,” Sherlock taps on the oh so tearable fabric that covers John’s legs.

 

“Push them aside. We’ve done it before.”

 

That gets him a growl; low, rumbling and it vibrates his entire being. If dragons existed they would cower from the sound. John nips at Sherlock’s chin.

 

“I’m already stretched.”

 

He’d done that before Sherlock had dragged him out of the flat. Shouting about a case. John had been so sure that Sherlock let the case overshadow what today is. Their anniversary. But then Sherlock surprised him, like he always does, and proposed. The landing on the floor is gentle, one of Sherlock’s hands cradling his skull as the other pulls on the flimsy fabric of the pantyhose. He hears it rip. Feels the panties be pushed aside and then there is a finger inside him. Pressing against his prostate again and again. He moans trying to get that finger deeper inside him. His mouth moves, noises mixtures of words and sounds leaking out as one becomes three.

 

“Sherlock,” he drags out the vowels. He loves this. Craves the stretch. The care that Sherlock shows.

 

“Come for me like this John. Come for me.”

 

It takes a few more thrusts of the fingers but he does come. Hard and loud and oh so thankful that their landlady is away for the evening. The fingers leave, one by one and with parting thrusts before Sherlock’s dick is inside him. It burns a little. Not enough to actually hurt but enough that Sherlock stops. Waits. Watches his face like it’s the most fascinating case. Shallow thrusts test the water, test his reactions. Oh god does it feel so good.

 

“Harder,” he demands, “or I’m flipping us.”

 

Sherlock’s laugh is like a drug to John. He can’t get enough of it. But conscious thought leaves him as Sherlock gives in to his demand. Hips thrusting into him. The  _ thwack _ of skin against skin and John’s moans filling the air. With his legs on Sherlock’s shoulders, his hands have nowhere to go but to his side scratching on the floor. He’s probably chanting Sherlock’s name over and over again as the detective pounds away with such force that they are slowly inching away from the chair. He’ll have rug burn on his back in the morning. It’s glorious. One of his hands reaches up, grasping for those curls. He needs to touch.  _ Needs  _ to. They’re soft to the touch.

 

When the consulting detective comes it’s with a strangled gasp. His legs are gently dropped and they tingle like they fell asleep. Sherlock kisses his cheeks.

 

“Still want to flip us?”

 

John narrows his eyes and forcing his legs to work he does just that. Hissing in pleasure. He knows that Sherlock likes it when John shows his strength. When he manhandles his lovers and takes what he needs. Before he can say something snarky a hand wraps around his prick. Jerking him off. He closes eyes and moans loudly. Letting the pleasure flow through him until thick globs of come cover his future husband’s hand.

 

Carefully John dismounts and flops down next to Sherlock, grabbing the nearest hand. He’ll clean up the mess in a bit. Right now he needs to catch his breath.

 

“I love you, Mister Holmes,” John breathes out.

 

“And I you, Mister Holmes.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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